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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23478997">awaiting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Game of Thrones RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:41:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,880</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23478997</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm coming to see you. -N</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gwendoline Christie/Nikolaj Coster-Waldau</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>awaiting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The text comes at 3 in the morning on a Wednesday of all days, but it wouldn't have woken her-- Gwendoline hasn't been able to sleep. She picks up her phone on a whim, choosing not to ignore it like all the others. Nikolaj's name heads the notification, and a shot of warmth through her makes her smile, just for a bit.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I'm coming to see you. -N</em>
</p><p> </p><p>--Is all the message says. Gwen frowns, and sits up.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>My schedule is clear. I'm taking a sabbatical this week, love--</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She backspaces; as much as she aches for it, she can't encourage him. The agony on his face the last time he mumbled into her naked shoulder about going back to Denmark is etched into her mind as a constant reminder.</p><p> </p><p>It's selfish, but she won't be his other woman. She knows she deserves better.</p><p> </p><p>Nikolaj hasn't touched her in months, after that-- not that she's let him. No more than a brush of fingers, or a hand on her knee, and even the latter was toeing the line of her weakness.</p><p> </p><p><em>I'm on a sabbatical this week,</em> she types instead, <em>I'll see if I can meet you for a dinner xx</em></p><p> </p><p>She pauses, watching the cursor as her thumbs mime at nonsense starters to sentences.</p><p> </p><p><em>What's a good time</em>, she adds after a minute or so. Nik hasn't seen the previous reply. Not <em>I've missed you</em> or <em>Hope to see you soon</em>. She shouldn't have agreed at all, she realises with a stab of self-loathing. His one-liner-texts always preceded a room number at a hotel, under a fake name, and before these past couple of years that was just fine with her. Gwen doesn't know when it started to hurt to lace their fingers together like they always did after sex, or when kissing him goodbye took on a meaning.</p><p> </p><p>Her tired eyes stare just a bit longer, waiting to see if he's seen her texts. She wants to feel proud that she's managed not to sound eager, but all it feels like is hurting herself. A part of her often clamors for her to cast away her inhibitions and just enjoy the whirlwind storm of being with Nik, to just live in the moment-- <em>every</em> moment she can with him and try not to shatter when the end comes.</p><p> </p><p>She can't, for a painfully simple reason that she can't even name without crying.</p><p> </p><p>Gwen groans and rolls over, shutting off the screen and leaving her phone face-down on the far side where Giles hasn't been in a week. She hates being like this, like the pining heroine of a trashy romance novel, curled up on a fainting couch wishing after the man she cannot have. Just because she wants with a hunger that gnaws at her chest, it doesn't have to dominate her life.</p><p> </p><p>Perhaps, for a while, it can. She'll allow herself that, but she has to get herself together soon. Resolving to do so once this week is up, she snatches the other pillow to her chest and stubbornly shuts her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Gwen wakes to the room bathed in morning blue, the fading dream of a "good morning" kissed against her cheek, and a pounding at her door. She rasps out a quiet "fuck off," picking up her phone to check the time. Quarter to seven. She throws her arm over her eyes, hoping her visitor will just go away, until her phone buzzes with a call.</p><p> </p><p>Today is already starting <em>wonderfully</em>.</p><p> </p><p>"Hello?" she says, not even bothering to hide the fatigue in her voice.</p><p> </p><p>"Gwen-- It's Nikolaj. Open up."</p><p> </p><p><em>Jesus</em>. Gwen is awake in an instant, throwing the covers off and rushing to the door to let him in before anyone can see. He's had the foresight to hide his face under a ballcap and sunglasses, but anyone who paid enough attention could recognise his unmistakable face.</p><p> </p><p>"Get inside," she hisses, tugging none too gently on his elbow. Locking the door with shaking hands, Gwen rounds on him with fire in her exhausted eyes. "What the fuck are you doing here? Anyone could've bloody seen you, you idiot! What happened to booking a hotel room?"</p><p> </p><p>Nikolaj opens his mouth, but doesn't respond. He takes a bracing breath, taking off his hat and his glasses with a hand running through his hair.</p><p> </p><p>"This... this isn't the kind of visit I usually pay you."</p><p> </p><p>He sounds glum, and nervous. As she slowly comes to proper wakefulness, a pit develops in her stomach. <em>Oh</em>. He's had enough, he's decided his family is more important, and she deserved to hear it in person. She thinks bitterly that she won't be choking back tears in a restaurant, at least. But here? Here in her own home, in her faded pajamas-- she hasn't even had the chance to put herself together. It all feels too vulnerable.</p><p> </p><p>No time like the present. The sooner it hurts, the sooner she can begin to heal.</p><p> </p><p>"I know, Nikolaj," she starts, woodenly, trying not to sound as broken as she feels. Her hands fight to keep from fiddling at the hem of her shirt, to stay loose at her sides when all she wants to do is dig her nails into her palms until the raw wound in her chest stops hurting as badly. His gaze shoots up to her, gorgeous blue eyes wide in surprise.</p><p> </p><p>God, he's beautiful even when he's breaking her heart. He's kind when he does it. He tells her to her face, in private, he flies all the way from Denmark to end it. She'll be hard-pressed to find courtesy like this ever again. Gwen forces herself to nod, forces a smile that even she knows is barely more than a stretch of lips in a pale imitation of one.</p><p> </p><p>"I won't be angry. We can still be friends. It was nice, wasn't it?"</p><p> </p><p>More than nice. The best six years of her life.</p><p> </p><p>Nikolaj shakes his head, never taking his eyes off hers. His hands shoot up to grab at her upper arms, loosening his hold when she doesn't have time to hide her flinch away.</p><p> </p><p>"No, no-- Gwen. <em>No</em>. It's-- I'm not breaking up with you," he pleads-- <em>pleads</em>, like she's the one leaving him. It isn't leaving, though, is it?</p><p> </p><p>"You can't, Nik," she says firmly, "there's never been anything <em>to</em> break up."</p><p> </p><p>"That's not-- <em>For helvede</em>. Listen to me, Gwendoline."</p><p> </p><p>She doesn't want to. She wants him out, away-- <em>far</em> away, so she can lick her wounds in the dark. Nikolaj takes one hand in his gently, where she tries not to think that it fits perfectly in his warm calloused palm like it was meant to be there.</p><p> </p><p>"Gwen, Nukâka and I, we've--" he swallows, "we've split. I thought you should know. "And," Nikolaj continues, not waiting for her to speak, "it's not because of you. We were no good for each other, anymore. Even-- Even if you don't want to be with me, I would've done it. Would've divorced her. But I want to. Be with you, I mean. I won't hold it against you if you--"</p><p> </p><p>She can't keep up. Gwen holds a hand up to stop him, shutting her eyes against the torrent of information. Below, she feels his hand squeeze hers tighter.</p><p> </p><p>"Nik... I'm--"</p><p> </p><p>"We can still be friends," he repeats back to her, weakly.</p><p> </p><p><em>Deep breaths, Gwendoline</em>. When she opens her eyes again, his are miserable and bright. His body is stiff, hand fisted in the pocket of his leather jacket, even as the other one grips onto her.</p><p> </p><p>"Nik, I love you. Let's start there."</p><p> </p><p>The way he immediately breaks into a grin and lights up like a bulb spreads a real smile across her face and a blush over her cheeks. "Gwen," he breathes in relief, surging forward to kiss her. Her stomach swoops at the idea, and she wants nothing more, but--</p><p> </p><p>Nikolaj looks adorably confused when his lips meet her hand, fear creeping into his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>"I'm a little tired, love. It all hasn't quite sunk in yet. For that matter, where's the fake rain? You aren't doing a good job of setting up this chick flick scene," Gwen laughs, quiet and tender, and he huffs a laugh back, slipping his arms around her waist. His front is warm, pressed against hers, and she has never felt more at home.</p><p> </p><p>"Couldn't find a crew on short notice. I would've brought you flowers and a huge card, too."</p><p> </p><p>She can't help it-- she tips her head forward to rest their foreheads together. The elation is still there, still threatening to burst like a dam, the way it tingles in her toes and her ears and her fingertips, but Gwen finds that she can't move an inch faster than she is now. Nikolaj braves a peck to her lips.</p><p> </p><p>"I love you, Gwendoline," he murmurs, comfortably. She loves him too, has done for so, so long. Gwen touches her fingers to his stubbled jaw, afraid to cup his face like she so badly wants to. She feels as though it's another dream that threatens to end, or that he'll change his mind and jerk away, or that she'll just burst into ugly, happy sobs at the sheer feeling of it.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you real?" she breathes, claiming his lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. Nikolaj nuzzles her nose, whispering back, "I think so. I hope so."</p><p> </p><p>"I really am tired, though. My sleep's been godawful these past few days."</p><p> </p><p>He mumbles that she should get to bed, then, still looking into her eyes. Gwen doesn't tell him that she could fall asleep right here, wrapped in his scent and listening to his breaths. She musters up the strength to pull away-- but not too far, leading him from the door to her bedroom. They hold each other the whole, slow way there, the excitement buzzing in her blood gentling to a content, low hum.</p><p> </p><p>She sits on the edge of her mattress, and he sits in a kneel between her knees. Nikolaj's hands are laced together at the small of her back, his thumbs caressing her through her shirt.</p><p> </p><p>"Should I leave you to sleep?"</p><p> </p><p>"No. I don't think I can without you, at this point."</p><p> </p><p>The slow smile he gives her is dazzling. Nikolaj gets to his feet as she gets cosy and turns down the covers on the other side for him. He sheds his jacket and drapes it over the back of the chair at her desk, and the sheer domesticity of it suffuses here with such a want that it leaves her weak and grateful that she's already lying down. He stops as he turns to her, gnawing at his lip.</p><p> </p><p>"What is it?"</p><p> </p><p>"Jeans allowed in bed?"</p><p> </p><p>"No, but if you're expecting anything steamy to come from spooning me without pants on, you'll have to wait another four hours, at least," she drawls. Nikolaj laughs, soft but happy. As soon as he gets under the blankets with her, they take up their usual comfortable position with her head on his chest, as if they'd been like this the whole time.</p><p> </p><p>"Sleep well, Gwen. I love you."</p><p> </p><p>"Love you, Nik."</p><p> </p><p>God, it feels good to say.</p>
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